


oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness

by confectionerybrick



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Established Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, this might be the fluffiest thing i've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 09:51:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3245264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confectionerybrick/pseuds/confectionerybrick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jake comes home to find Amy has completely demolished his kitchen, and he doesn't mind a bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness

Jake had spent most of the day chasing drug dealers, and the rest of it filling out the most mind-numbing paperwork. Luckily, he had Rosa to help him, but the pile seemed to grow every time he looked up and checkboxes were dancing in front of his eyes. Flinging down his pen, he rubbed his brow and gazed at the empty chair at the desk across from him. Usually at this point, Amy would give him an encouraging smile, or he would simply watch her work in silence for a few minutes to ease his boredom.

But it was her day off, and her desk was free of paper except for the odd file of his that had gone astray for lack of space.

When nine o'clock came, his head was pounding and he decided he was done. When he saw Rosa packing up her things it was enough of an excuse for him to leave, too, and he slung his jacket on and high tailed it out of there.

From the street outside his building he could see that the lights were on in the living room, and for a second his cop training made him panic – then he saw a messy ponytail walk past the window, and couldn't stop himself grinning. He stared up at the now vacant window glowing in the bitter night, and paused for a few seconds, heartbeat loud in his ears. He'd given Amy a key to his place last week, and he still wasn't used to the giddy feeling that came with it.

“Jake!”

When he unlocked the door, he was met with a loud burst of Jay-Z (out of all the CDs he owned, he would have predicted Amy choosing that one _last_ ) and an enthusiastic shout from the kitchen. He turned down the stereo and padded through wearily, stopping in the doorway to take in the scene around him. There were bowls, pots and pans all over the counters, covered in the remnants of various substances; the oven was on, kicking out heat; there was a dusting of what looked like flour over every surface - and sat on the floor, propped up in the corner was Amy, holding out her arms and a half-empty bottle of rum.

“Hey, Ames, you having fun?”

“Jaaaaaake,” She repeats dazedly, gazing up at him. “I came by to clean your kitchen because I thought it would be a nice surprise. Y'know, 'cuz its usually filthy.”

“I can see you got far with that.”

“But then I got _bored_ waiting for you to come back, so I thought I'd make you something to eat when you finished your drug bust,” Amy hiccups, smiling. “It's r- _hic!_ rum cake.”

Jake blinks, and sniffs. “Is that what I can smell burning?”

“Oh, _shit-_ ”

Jake swiftly grabs a towel and whips open the oven door; he ducks his head out of the stream of smoke and pulls out the only cake tin he owns (Gina left it behind when she moved out). He dumps it on the top of the hob, looks precariously down at the brown, flat mess in the bottom and then back to Amy, who's grimacing on the floor.

“Hey, don't worry. It's not that bad,” he soothes, holding back laughter as he takes her hands and pulls her to her feet. There's something sticky on her fingers. “Did you start on the Captain Morgan before or after you started burning down my apartment?”

She slaps him on the arm apathetically, leaving a smear of cake batter on his skin, before leaning into him and staring down into the tin, pouting. “M'sorry.”

“Hey, hey.” He pushes back the locks of hair that have come loose from her ponytail and kisses her forehead. “Thanks for my cake. I'm sure it'll taste great. And if it doesn't, we can send it to The Vulture in the hope that it poisons him.”

She looks up at him with those wide eyes, and something shifts in his worldview, like it's all slotting into place. There's flour on her nose and what looks suspiciously like egg in her hair, and he thinks that maybe he loves her.

But when he says it for the first time, he wants to be sure she'll remember it the next day.

So he runs her a bath, adds the aromatherapy oils she left there for the muscle pain the job sometimes gives him, and when he turns to leave and clean up she only has to tug on his arm before he's undressing with her. She smells of lavender shampoo and tastes of sugar and rum, and he tucks her head under his chin as they lie together in the bubbles, Jake using a beaker to gently wash her hair clean. This is probably the most he's done to look after another human being in a while, and he likes the way his chest goes tight at the thought.

He kisses butter off her neck, and it makes her laugh. She raises a tired hand up to his cheek and turns his head, searching for the comfort of his lips on hers, and he doesn't think he'll ever get sick of kissing Amy Santiago – no matter if it's drunk, earnest, covered-in-flour Amy Santiago.

“Promise me something, Ames.”

“Mmm?”

“Come round and burn food for me whenever you like.”

She smiles against his mouth, and within two minutes she falls asleep, warm on his chest.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from the song Bloom by Paper Kites.
> 
> Until after I'd finished writing, I did not make the link between events in this drabble and that ongoing joke in Season 2 where Charles says that washing a lover's hair is the most intimate gift of all... and I decided to leave it in anyway because I couldn't make up my mind whether it was sweet or corny. You decide!
> 
> This is unbeta'd - if you spot any mistakes please let me know.
> 
> Thanks for reading. :3


End file.
